


the taste of snow and cheerios

by signifier



Series: The Chronicles of Los Santos [6]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, FAHC, M/M, im sorry, this is so sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 13:58:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifier/pseuds/signifier
Summary: There were five things Jeremy knew. Somehow, each seem to do with Ryan Haywood.-You shouldn't date inside crews - god forbid someone gets hurt.





	the taste of snow and cheerios

**Author's Note:**

> my hand slipped

Jeremy knew the Vagabond was going to be an interesting addition to their crew the minute he met the infamous mercenary. Jeremy had been the last to meet him as he had been busy the same time everyone else had. Jeremy was lucky enough to meet him after the Vagabond had spent his time interrogating one of the Corpirates men.

They met in passing in a hallway. The Vagabond was dressed in a normal black tshirt, dad jeans and his mask fixed firmly onto his head. There was blood all the way up to his elbows. Jeremy froze in reflex, not at all sure what to do in this situation. Luckily for him, the Vagabond spoke first.

“Hey. It’s Jeremy, right?”

Jeremy simply nodded, thrown entirely off guard by the casual tone of the other mans voice. It didn’t match his current appearance at all.

“Sweet. See you around.” With a little wave of his hand the Vagabond kept on down the hallway. Jeremy turned to watch him leave just to make sure he hadn’t imagined the whole interaction.

Yeah, he was gonna be one hell of a crew member.

-

Jeremy knew he found the Vagabond attractive the first time he saw him without his mask on.

It had been late, the whole crew sleeping after a particularly harrowing heist. Jeremy, however, was awake. There was a deep pain in his ribs that he’d gotten from a nasty fall off his bike and he found the sweet release of sleep nowhere in sight. He sighed, slipping out of bed and making his way into the kitchen, the thought of aspirin on his mind. He froze in the doorway.

There was a man sitting at the island.

His hair was black and shiny in the dim lighting, tightly pulled back into a ponytail. His shirt was black, sporting some logo of a band Jeremy wasn’t sure he’d heard of. He was eating Jeremy’s cereal. For a second, Jeremy had absolutely no idea if he should be getting ready for a fight, but then the stranger looked up and caught his gaze. There was no mistaking those blue eyes.

“Hey Jer.” The pronunciation was off slightly due to the amount of cheerios the Vagabond was attempting to eat at once.

“That’s my cereal.” Jeremy moved further into the room, pain forgotten as he slid into a seat opposite his crew member.

“Well it was this or Jack’s cap’n crunch and we all know how he feels about that.” 

Jeremy laughed slightly, an odd sort of nervousness settling into his chest. It had been a long time since Jeremy had sat across from an attractive man. Living the sort of life that he did, there wasn’t really much time for relationships or dating or even hookups on the side, not when you had a crew to look out for. The only option was to date inside your own crew, but that got dangerous when couples broke up, or - god forbid - someone got hurt.

“You know, you’re really not as scary as I figured the Vagabond would be, in fact, it seems almost stupid to call you that now.” Jeremy chuckled.

“Well, you could just call me Ryan.”

Jeremy raised his eyebrows, not expecting such a normal name. He smiled.

“Ryan it is.”

-

Jeremy knew he fancied Ryan the first time they patched each other up. The heist had been brutal, the LSPD coming down hard. Jeremy had been shot and Ryan stabbed, both of them clinging to each other for support as they made it into the bathroom. Jeremy climbed up onto the counter near the sink, breathing heavily from the strain of the small action.

Ryan placed the first aid kit and bottle of whiskey he had somehow acquired on the counter next to him.

“Okay, shirt off.”

“You too.”

They both removed their clothes in silence, the only sounds filling the room being their pained struggles as the fabric tugged at their wounds. Then they got to work. Ryan took care of Jeremy’s shoulder whilst Jeremy made light work of Ryan’s abdomen.

It was odd, the feeling of Ryan’s fingers ghosting over his bare skin. He’d never had expected someone as violent as Ryan to have such a light touch, but there he was, expertly patching up the hole in his shoulder. It took everything Jeremy had to not shiver under his touch.

It was odd, too, the feeling of Ryan’s skin under his hands, watching the way the small red beads complimented his pale complexion. If Jeremy tightened his grip, pushed the wound in just the right way, he was certain Ryan would be a whimpering mess under his hands, and that was too much power for a person to have. He let the thought slide, feeling the heat flush his skin as he thought of Ryan being under his control, or maybe it was the effect of the whiskey they had been passing back and forth but either way, Jeremy knew he was in too deep.

-

Jeremy knew he liked Ryan the first time they kissed.

It was nearing Christmas and the normally green fields that surrounded one of their many safe houses had been painted white over night. Ryan, who had come from Georgia and not experienced much snow, had practically begged Jeremy, who hated the cold, to go out in it with him. It took Ryan all of 10 seconds to have Jeremy convinced.

The snow was soft under his boots and wet as it melted into the fabric of his gloves. He knew his fingers would be red and frozen later.

Jeremy was pulled from his thoughts as the weight of cold material hit his neck and slithered down his shirt. He gasped, cringing slightly as he whipped round to find the source of the threat.

Ryan stood with a hand stifling his smile, the other dripping with the evidence of a snowball.

“You absolute _child.”_ Jeremy scolded, the grin on his face mirroring Ryan’s own.

It was a full on war after that.

They ended up at a stand off, both of them with piles of snow in their hands, waiting for the other to throw first so they could rush forward and win. Jeremy could see the anxious smile on Ryan’s face - could see the red of his cheeks and the white of his breath as he shifted on his feet. There was no denying the way his heart jumped when Ryan’s eyebrow cocked expectantly. He decided he didn’t care much about winning after that. He let the snow fall to the ground, his hand somewhat numb as Ryan came in close.

Ryan grabbed Jeremy’s waist, his hand full of snow and chest full of laughter as he threatened to dump his hand’s contents down the back of Jeremy’s coat.

“Fucking try it and I’ll kill you.” Jeremy had laughed, hands gripping the front of Ryan’s coat to keep his balance. He tried very hard not to notice the placement of Ryan’s hand on his hip or the close proximity in which they were standing.

Ryan bit his lip through his smile and Jeremy could have sworn Ryan was shifting his gaze from his lips to his eyes. When he spoke his breath was a warm cloud of fog.

“I’m sure you’d give it a good go.” And then Ryan was leaning in, and Jeremy was too until their lips met and their eyes fell shut.

It was cold, the air full of ice as a particularly brutal gust of wind blew, but Ryan’s body was warm and his lips welcoming as they moved in sync. The snow was discarded as Ryan brought his other hand up to Jeremys neck, the damp fabric of his glove sending little beads of water travelling down Jeremy’s shirt and making him shiver.

Kissing Ryan was like being out in the cold for hours and finally getting into the warm. It was gentle and passionate all at once and Jeremy found himself thinking he would venture out into the snow every second if it meant Ryan would kiss him like this.

-

Jeremy knew he loved Ryan the last time they kissed.

His arms strained as he dragged Ryan backwards, out of the line of fire and into some back alley that was littered with rubbish and broken glass. It wasn’t the most ideal place to be. He kept going, ignoring Ryan’s soft groans as he pulled him behind a dumpster, muttering small encouragements the whole way. As soon as he had Ryan propped up, he raised his blood covered hands and took off the skull mask.

Ryan was pale, which wasn’t too out of the ordinary for Ryan, but the white of his face and the blue of his lips had Jeremys stomach dropping with dread. He moved onto the wounds, trying not to let his panic show on his face as he lifted Ryan’s shirt.

It didn’t look good.

His whole stomach was drenched in blood, pooling around his belt and seeming to get darker and thicker by the second. Jeremy didn’t even know where to begin to apply pressure. He settled for a general area, using both hands to press down on Ryan’s stomach, ignoring the hisses of pain and pleas for him to let up. He could feel the gaping hole that the shotgun had caused, could feel the layers of skin that had been torn away. He could feel the rough touch of a scar from a stab wound he’d patched up once before.

“Jeremy.”

He hated how weak the voice sounded, hated how much it dug at his heart, hated _himself_ for ever letting someone get so close.

You shouldn’t date in crews - god forbid someone gets hurt.

But this wasn’t dating. Not to him. When Jeremy looked at Ryan there was such an adoration in his chest that he was almost certain his heart was going to explode from the pure joy he felt around him, and when they held each other, when he felt Ryan’s soft touch on his cheek or in his hands, when they _kissed,_ Jeremy needed it like he needed air. He’d never been one to label things, but he knew that what he felt for Ryan was love.

“Jeremy.” This time the voice was accompanied by a hand laid lightly over his.

“God, I love you. I love you so much this can’t be happening. Not to you, please God, not to you.” The words spilled out before he could stop himself, tears freely rolling down his cheeks. He couldn’t look at Ryan. He couldn’t look in those blue eyes and listen to what they were trying to tell him.

_It’s okay._

“I never took you for a religious man.”

Jeremy laughed at that. A splutter of a laugh that ripped the air straight from him.  Even in the condition he was in Ryan was making jokes.

“Please look at me.”

He looked up and it took all the strength he had to hold in the sob threatening to escape. Ryan looked awful. Eyes half closed and dull, he was crying too, teeth lightly chattering.

“I love you.” Jeremy whispered again, as if the simple three words would fix everything, like love should.

They didn’t.

Ryan smiled, looking like the action took everything he had. He brought a hand up to Jeremy’s cheek, his cold fingertips gently pulling him in.

“I love you too.”

Then they were kissing - a sorrowful kiss full of words yet to be spoken and promises that they were too late to make. Ryan tasted of snow and cheerios and salt from their tears, of all of their firsts and none of their lasts. Jeremy felt the hand covering his slip, heard the soft tink as it hit some discarded glass, felt the lips attached to his stop kissing him back. He gave himself a while longer before he pulled away.

Jeremy kept his hands pressed into the wound, let his head fall forward against Ryan’s own and his eyes squeezed shut as he savoured their final moments, for Jeremy knew that as soon as he opened his eyes his heart would break and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to survive it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> feel free to leave a comment or send me a fic request at @sig-nifier on tumblr!
> 
> (all rooster teeth pairings and prompts are accepted)


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